


Sugar and Lotus(scrapped plot)

by pandexual



Series: Sugar and Lotus [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, scrapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 05:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16947801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandexual/pseuds/pandexual
Summary: okay this is an old deviation of my ongoing fic, sugar and lotus. basically i didn't like how the plot was going so i'm going to archive it and my written drafts here.differences start after chapter 19!





	Sugar and Lotus(scrapped plot)

Chapter 26: housekeeping

okay, so. it’s been a while. i have an explanation for that.

i don’t like where this story was ultimately heading. the whole brainwashing/assassin alter ego that i had sombra experience was playing into some uncomfortable ableist themes that i didn’t want to explore any more than you would find in blizzard canon. romance was taking a backseat to sombra’s recovery, and while that is important, this story was ultimately supposed to be about their relationship and their own developing experiences about each other. i’m not saying a story like this shouldn’t be told, but i don’t feel like i’m the best equipped to tell it.

i’m also losing interest in overwatch as a whole. after ashe came out i was understandably pissed at the bland direction that blizzard seems to be taking. if they do ever release a black woman hero, i firmly believe they’re only doing it because we’ve been asking for so long. but i won’t get too much into that. i still love the characters of overwatch, and symbra’s dynamic is still near and dear to my heart.

with that! **I PLAN ON REWRITING THIS STORY.** going further, i’m going to alter some details in some of the chapters already published before diverting the plot into something i’m more comfortable writing. **by this i mean chapters 19-22 will stay almost the same, with some details changed, and chapters 23 and onward will be a different plot entirely.** the old chapters and the chapters of the old plot that i have drafted up will be posted and linked to a separate fic!

i’ll see you all on the other side.

* * *

 

Chapter 19: 02/28/2078 08:30

(notes: here’s a real chapter for you!

welcome to moscow.)

The ride to the rendezvous was uneventful for the most part. However, when the drop ship touched down, Satya realized that she had made a terrible mistake.

“You’re from here, right? How do you live?” Satya hissed at Zaryanova through chattering teeth, Russian snow already lightly dusting her shoulders. Goosebumps pricked her bare arm and she shivered from the biting cold.

Zarya let out a belly laugh as she walked off the drop ship, unzipping her jacket and draping it on the architect’s shoulders. She wore a tank top underneath, but didn’t seem a bit phased by the morning’s cold. “Russian weather is good for the lungs and soul! It is not even that bad.”

Zenyatta departed the ship wearing a thick hooded sweatshirt. “The Shambali’s home in Nepal sees snow as well, but prolonged exposure to the cold is not good for our mechanics.”

Lena laughed from the cockpit. “You three go along, I’ll keep the ship warm! Maybe I’ll make some tea...”

Satya zipped up the big jacket and gave Lena a wave. The team had touched down just outside of Moscow, and planned on meeting Lynx in the heart of the city. Walking the streets, Satya couldn’t help but gawk at the artistic buildings, having never been here before.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Aleksandra asked, pride clear in her voice. “Tradition meets technology.”

Satya nodded in agreement. “I’ve never seen such colorful architecture, I’d love to come back some day to study it.”

“Now, don’t go all Vishkar and steal our ideas!” With a laugh, Aleksandra patted Satya firmly on the back.

Satya didn’t find it as funny, and the look on her face made it clear.

“...Ah. Sorry.” The Russian woman let out a cough, and an awkward silence fell over the three of them.

Zenyatta spoke after a moment. “It must be hard to separate your identify from Vishkar’s reputation.”

Surprisingly, Aleksandra nodded in agreement. “The omnic is right. But with time, things will be better.”

Satya worked her thumb into the palm of her prosthetic to soothe her nerves. “Thank you, both.”

It wasn’t much longer until the group slipped through a few narrow alleys, arriving in approximation to the rendezvous. Already waiting for them, a familiar hooded figure stepped in line and made the group into four.

“I didn’t think you would bring her,” the hacker commented, slipping off their mask and shoving it into a backpack they carried. Their face was indeed that of an omnic’s, and two rabbit-like antennae poked out from their hood.

“Who would do a better job if not me?” Aleksandra asked, though she made no further objections to their comment.

Satya carried on, paging Tracer from a communications device she had received as part of her Overwatch membership. “We’ve received the package, making our way back towards you.”

“Roger that, love!”

And then a bullet grazed right past her ear.

Too many things happened at once: Zaryanova erected a bright bubble to shield the group and get them into cover, Zenyatta made a movement that shrouded Satya’s vision in gold, and her ears couldn’t stop ringing.

She couldn’t hear proper, only her own rushing heartbeat and the distant voices of her teammates trying to talk to her. Presumably, judging by the way Aleksandra had her hand against one ear, she was trying to get Tracer over the comms too. The pain in Satya’s ear was numb, maybe from shock and maybe from Zenyatta’s healing, but it still made her fingers shake as she pulled a hard light visor into existence and activated it.

The job was shaky, but it would have to do. Satya was usually no field agent, especially when dealing with long range combat, but if someone really had tailed them, it was best if she protect her teammates and evacuate. She peeked around the corner of a building in order to get sights on their assailant, but another bullet whizzing by from somewhere above had her ducking her head back into cover.

The architect realized she had been babbling as the ringing in her ears subsided and she was able to hear her surroundings more clearly. “There’s a sniper-“ she was able to articulate, and Aleksandra swore in Russian.

“We have a sniper situation, likely the Widowmaker,” she said into her comm. “Not sure how she tailed us or when, but we need an evac now.”

“That won’t be easy!” Lena’s voice sounded over the comm. “She can shoot me down from here no problem, and I’ll need a clear landing!”

Lynx had a laptop out, their fingers flying over the keyboard as a map lit on their screen. “I’m reading heat signatures in the building across the street on the fourth story. The street itself should be wide enough for you to land.”

Zenyatta turned his head towards Satya. “Can you utilize your hard light technology as a shield of some sort?”

Satya’s mind raced. “I- theoretically, yes, but with her kind of damage it can’t last long.”

“I only need a tick!” Lena replied. “If you can do it, then do it soon!”

Okay. She could do this, right? The Photon Barrier Deluxe was a defense mechanism only half developed before Vishkar shut down, should be no problem. Her visor flashed, too, the display warning her that she had barely enough charge in her arm to do something to that scale.

Satya shook her head, hands already working to form hard light. That was no way to think, and she was the smartest Architech Vishkar had. If anyone could do it, it would be her.

Stepping out of cover again, Satya’s arms extended wide, her fingers shaped like “L”s, and a grid spread out before her, growing larger and larger until it the width of it spanned past a whole block. It flashed bright cyan a few times, presumably due to fires from the Widowmaker, but for now it looked like it would hold.

Her teammates looked on, stunned, and there was silence for a moment.

“...Yeah that’ll do it,” Lena eventually said over the comm. “Head to the clearing in the street and I’ll swoop in.”

The four of them did just that and the drop ship flew down just long enough for them all to jump on board. As they ascended and accelerated, Satya’s shield fizzled and cracked red a few times. Satya wasn’t so sure it was supposed to do that. Looking out of the drop ship, she tried to get eyes on Widowmaker, but saw no one.

* * *

Chapter 20: 03/04/2078 09:55

(notes: as always, thank you for reading!!!)

“You have a mild case of tinnitus, so I recommend not exposing yourself to any loud noises for the next week.”

“While working on a military base? You demand too much of me, doctor,” Satya remarked with a little grin.

The woman in question laughed and her voice sounded clear and soft, much like a bell. Angela Ziegler, after months of working crisis relief in the Middle East and unsure about the necessity of the Recall, had finally agreed to respond and insisted on giving everyone a standard checkup upon arrival this morning. Satya found that her field name, Mercy, was no exaggeration and she was fond of the doctor immediately.

“As for your arm...” Angela held the prosthetic under a studious eye. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to take it into my care for a few hours. You expended all of its charge during your mission in Moscow, correct?”

Satya nodded, legs crossing atop the medical table she sat at. After making the Photon Barrier, her prosthetic had shut down with a spark and not even plugging it into its usual hard light charging station made much of a difference. The last few days had been a struggle and she was glad Angela might be able to fix it. “It’s a Vishkar model, though, there’s none other like it. I ask that you keep its hard light capabilities intact.”

“I’m fairly experienced with complex prosthetic manufacturing. If anyone can get it back into perfect condition, it’s me,” the doctor promised. “In the meantime, why don’t you see how Lynx is doing with their research?”

Satya set off to do just that. With Lynx Seventeen on the Watchpoint, the search for Sombra had become simultaneously more and less productive. More productive in the sense that they knew far better about what they were doing compared to Satya, and took to collaborating with the AI Athena like a duckling to water.

Less productive, however...

“Shit!” they groaned as Satya wandered into the workshop, antennae flicking irritably as they smacked their head against the desk in frustration.

“What’s the matter?” Satya asked to announce her presence, pulling up a stool one-handed and sitting behind them.

“Everywhere I look is a dead end,” they stressed, hands scratching at the back of their head. “Widow’s definitely a key player in this whole op, and chances are she probably tried something in Utopaea and Moscow,” Lynx explained, and then threw their hands towards their computer dramatically, “but there’s virtually no record of Widow activity anywhere near either place.”

“What does it say her current activity is?” Satya asked, peering over Lynx’s shoulder at their computer.

“Last mission she got officially deployed on was assisting a coup in Venice, but that was months ago,” Lynx replied. “Her current status is on standby, which is weird. We definitely saw her in Moscow.”  
“If she’s not there, where would she go if not on active duty?”

”Does she not have some sort of... home base?”

“Her personal wealth is unmatched by any other member of Talon. She has several properties around the globe,” Lynx said. “At this point, with the info we have, it’d be a wild gamble.”

“I don’t know if we have the time or luxury to search through each and every one,” Satya mused, standing up straight so she could pace. “But it was her, I know it. Why would there be no record of it?”

Lynx spun in their office chair, a contemplative hum escaping them as they thought. “Well, it’s not like her to just act off the record, so we can rule that one out.”

“What? Why?” Satya stopped pacing to look at Lynx.

“She’s Talon’s weapon, is why. Everything she does for them is usually recorded. She doesn’t really do things her own style. She’s been brainwashed so thoroughly, free will might not even be a concept she understands.”

Satya bristled at the omnic’s words and she desperately wished she had her prosthetic to stim with. “...You know, just a few months ago, one could say the same about me.”

Lynx’s antennae perked and they rapidly shook their head in apology. “No, that’s- you’re different. You really don’t want to know what’s ticking in the Widow’s head.”

“...There’s something else to it, I mean,” the architect’s brow furrowed as she thought back. “That night, Sombra- she played me a phone call. Widowmaker and Sanjay didn’t want ‘the big guy’ to know about my snooping, this might be similar.”

Lynx’s antennae swiveled as they processed that new information. “A phone call? That can be traced. Hell, Sombra already apparently traced it. We just need a source.”

Emboldened by this new thread, they dove back into typing at their laptop. “Let me look into this,” they said, fingers dancing with renewed energy. Satya figured the conversation was over for now.

Not that Satya was helping much on the digital side anyway. For now, she could make herself some coffee and strategize.

* * *

Chapter 21: 03/23/2078 03:30

(notes: this is the last chapter before the next arc!!!!! i’m excited!!!!)

“Oh my god.”

“What is it?” Satya sat up with a yawn, hair wild from tossing and turning. She’d been spending her nights in the Watchpoint’s common areas, on the couch no less, working with Lynx and getting desperate with each new dead end. It had been over three weeks of nearly endless searching, and Satya was nearing her wits’ end.

“I found her.”

Those three words had Satya on her feet now and she crowded in behind Lynx. "What?"

On their computer screen, Lynx highlighted a blurry picture of what looked like two women getting off a helicopter. One had the unmistakable pale blue skin of Widowmaker, and the other had brown curly hair that faded to bright red at the end. Her face was obscured by low quality and Widowmaker’s hand, but the jacket the woman was wearing was a dead giveaway.

“That’s her. Where is this?” Satya fidgeted with her hair, combing her fingers through it as best as she could.

“Off the coast of France, an old place by the name of Chateau Guillard,” Lynx explained. “This picture was mined off of her security cameras a few days ago, but from the looks of it, Widowmaker spends a lot of her time here.”

“Then that’s it. We have to go now.”

“Hold up, hold up,” Lynx warned. “We can’t just jump into this headfirst. I’ve actually been meaning to ask, but... what if Sombra doesn’t want to come back?”

The question had Satya’s gut burning. “Well, she certainly doesn’t want to work with Talon. It’s not good for her.”

“Then why would she be with the Widow? From the looks of it, she’s no prisoner.” Lynx tapped the screen with their finger. "No cuffs, visible restraints, or signs of a struggle. So why say she's not there voluntarily?"

“I don’t know,” Satya replied, her brow furrowing.

“And did she ever tell you her motive for helping you with Vishkar?”

“Stop it,” the architect snapped, getting to her feet. She was tired, and her patience was running so, so thin. “I would think someone who relied on my word to get here wouldn’t be asking so many questions.”

Lynx gave a halfhearted shrug, not wanting to stir up Satya even more. “Sorry, I’m a hacker. It’s my job to ask questions.”

Their words were achingly familiar and Satya gathered her things with a heavy heart. “I’m going somewhere else. Give the information you found to Winston.”

 

Satya’s feet took her to the engineer workshop. Without Lindholm’s usual tinkering, the space was empty. Quiet. Perfect.

Her mind was racing too fast now and she knew that going home to her apartment would leave her tossing and turning all night, so the architect rolled open a blank blueprint. Design would be her distraction.

She drew and wrote and calculated different designs, falling into a familiar rhythm. With her prosthetic repaired and at full charge, it was almost effortless to pull out prototype after prototype of hard light. Satya decided her turrets were too flimsy for field work, and adjusted their settings until she was happy with a bulkier model with a stronger beam. With a few tests, she found that she was able to deploy them as projectiles now. Another bonus.

While she was at it... the Vishkar teleporter needed some tender loving care as well. It had so much potential, but in its current state, it took too long to charge and was a waste of hard light energy. Yes, her improved version had a time limit on it, but the architect found that this allowed it to be so much more versatile and portable.

Her gun needed tweaking too. Satya wasn't ever one to primarily rely on it, usually leaving her turrets to do the defending, but if she were to be on the field more, her gun ought to protect her too. After running some schematics, Satya decided the best adjustment would be to increase its secondary fire rate and trade its auto-aiming beam for a shield depleting one.

She had no idea what time it was when she stood and wiped her forehead of sweat, but when she did, she figured it must be nearing morning. Because Satya noticed she had an audience.

“Couldn’t sleep?” asked Lena, standing in the doorway to the workshop with a gentle smile and two cups of coffee in her hands.

“I’m- Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” Satya replied, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

“No worries, I wasn’t here long. Noticed you working like the dickens and didn’t want to disturb you.” Lena handed her one of the mugs. The coffee had way too much sugar for Satya’s usual taste, but the sweetness in this moment was comforting.

“We have to go to France,” Satya answered after her sip of coffee. “I figured I would improve my hard light repertoire to get ready-“ And that made her pause. Even when trying to distract herself, she had subconsciously been working towards preparing for a confrontation.

If Lena noticed the blunder, she didn’t comment. “France, eh? You found a lead on Sombra?”

Satya nodded and avoided eye contact then, Lynx’s words echoed back into her mind and she couldn’t help but wallow in them. “Do you think she’ll want me to come, though?” she wondered, her throat far tighter than she wanted it to be.

“Oh, Satya,” Lena cooed, moving closer to place a hand gingerly at the architect’s back. “Of course. She’s been waiting for you, I know it,” the young woman promised. “There’s a reason she hasn’t come to you yet, but it isn't because she doesn’t want to see you.”

Satya gave a small smile, a spark of hope in her chest clearing the doubt. “You mean it?”

The Brit gave Satya a playful wink and an encouraging smile. “If I was Sombra, there’s no way I could ever forget about you.”

* * *

Chapter 22: 01/??/2078 XX:XX

(notes: welcome to the third arc of this story. the next few chapters will deal with themes of imprisonment, torture, brainwashing, drug use, and unclear time frames. nothing too detailed but i thought it would be important to mention. i tried to aim for longer chapters, but really it’s just gonna be shorter chunks shoved together.)

Sombra didn’t think that today would mark the end for her. She was so, so terribly wrong.

Once the two women stepped out onto the streets of Utopaea, the hacker held herself differently, less confidently, in order to blend in to the other citizens of the city. She stuck close to Satya’s side as they approached the Vishkar skyscraper to figure out what was going on. But as the streets got more and more concentrated with people the closer they got to the building, Olivia discreetly activated her camouflage and fell out of view.

It wasn’t until Satya had been swarmed with reporters and journalists in the streets for all of the action that Olivia was caught off guard. With a surprising tug to the back of her jacket, the hacker was pulled out of the crowd and into an alleyway, where a cold hand held her against the brick wall and the colder metal of a pistol met her neck.

"What did you do?” hissed the voice of the Widowmaker, her image appearing from a similar camouflage that Sombra typically used. Her octo-lensed visor was activated and trained right on Olivia.

The hacker gave a dry laugh, her own camouflage dropping. The invisibility was useless under her Infra-sighted gaze. “Going stealthy and using a handgun? You trying to steal my image, Amelie?” she asked with a grin.

The metal of the gun dug in sharper. “Why are you working with the Vishkar woman? Are you trying to make our jobs more difficult? Are you trying to expose our interests with the company?” the Widow interrogated.

“I like a challenge,” Olivia said dismissively, angling her face away from the gun and Amelie’s gaze. “Anyway, Korpal was too ambitious. He would have given us away regardless, so I took the initiative and cut the weak link.”

“You’re lying. I can hear your heart racing.”

“Ha! What can’t that thing do?” Olivia chuckled nervously and raised a finger to tap her nail against Widowmaker’s visor.

The sniper snarled and curled her finger around the trigger. “Talk.”

Olivia didn’t have to. A single gunshot rang from down the street and it made her jolt, looking desperately around the corner to catch anything. Under the other woman’s grip, however, Olivia couldn’t move very far.

Amelie herself hadn’t been phased by the incident, and instead cooed softly, a wicked smile on her lips. Her visor retracted and Olivia could see the malice hidden behind her eyes. “Ah, so you’re sweet on the Vishkar woman,” she deduced.

Olivia’s expression hardened and she stared the spider down. “You’ll leave her alone,” she spat.

Widowmaker let out a soft chuckle and replied, “You don’t tell me what to do.” She reared back her hand then, and with wide eyes, Olivia ducked out of the way, narrowly missing a pistol whip from the sniper.

The movement freed Olivia from Widowmaker’s grasp and with a quick reflex, she hacked Widowmaker’s abilities. And with a start, she took off down the alley. She had to get the fuck out of Widow’s way, had to get back to Satya to warn her. Her hack didn’t last long at all, though, and the telltale sign of Widowmaker shooting her venomous mine had Olivia halting in her tracks. But it was too late. She tripped over the tiny vial, venom clouding her vision and sending her into a coughing fit.

Widowmaker approached at a leisurely pace, heels clicking quietly against the alleyway pavement. She picked Olivia up with a surprising strength, grasping the hacker by her jacket collar. “That was a foolish move. You’re only making it harder on yourself.”

Olivia sucked in a breath through clenched teeth before spitting on the sniper. Widow rolled her eyes, and with trained grace and strength, punched Olivia right in the face.

* * *

The sound of a thick pamphlet of paper hitting a metal table jolted Olivia from unconsciousness and her eyes locked with those of Gabriel Reyes.

  
“What the hell is this?” she asked, and when she tried to move her hands she realized they were bound to the cold metal chair she was sat in. The surrounding room was dark, too, lit only by a lamp suspended from the ceiling. Olivia couldn’t see more than a few feet, but she guessed that the room was fairly small.

“You were getting sloppy, so I started doing my own research on you,” the man replied, decay and smoke wrecking his vocals. “Exposing our presence in Dorado. Embezzlement. Snitching on your fellow members to the authorities. Sabotage of the Volskaya mission.” He flipped open the pamphlet and on the front page was a blurry photo of her and Satya Vaswani walking the streets of Castillo. “Vishkar.”

Olivia paled, and she let out a chuckle. “Come on, now, you know I’m just playing around like I always do. Vishkar’s fall is just a coincidence. She’s my pawn, even.”

“The company was a major supplier for us, and you want me to believe you were only caught in the crossfire?” Reyes’ fist curled against the table. “We’re supposed to be terrorists. We weren’t so sure about you, and after this? This fling? Something needs to be done about you.”

The hacker’s heart slammed against her chest at the implications of that. “What- since when was anything like that decided?”

“Oh, you didn’t hear?” The man flipped the paperwork shut and tapped it with his index finger for emphasis. “We’re going traditional with our paperwork now. Didn’t want you snooping around our databases and ruining the surprise.” He slid the files across the table to her, as if she wasn’t bound and unable to read them herself. “Plus, with all the mess you’ve been making, I believe it’s better for all of us if our boss doesn’t find out this early about your… blunders. Really, what I’m doing for you is a kindness.”

“Gabe, you don’t have to do this," Olivia tried in Spanish now as a last-ditch effort. Plus, who knows who else was listening to the conversation. “I’ve always been like this, really, it’s all just a coincidence. Me and her, it’s not-/ Es inofensiva.“

“Love’s not harmless.” Smoke shrouded the man then, covering his decaying face with a white bone mask. “It rots you from the inside out.” With that, he turned, opening the door leading out and flooding light into the room. “...But, you should be much happier soon.”

“What- Why?”

“Right, you don’t know. You’re getting promoted."

The single word had Olivia’s stomach dropping to her feet, and before she could reply, the door slammed shut and she was left alone in the room.

* * *

Begging was a pathetic notion. Only the weakest, most groveling creatures ever needed to resort to that. Olivia loved nothing more than to bask in the glory of a good beg, watching those beneath her snivel and plead with no other options left for them.

And yet, here Olivia was, doing just the same.

But anything was better than getting promoted.

To be promoted was to devote yourself entirely to Talon, either voluntarily or not. Sure, you got more benefits; paid vacation leaves, higher salary, more secure position in the organization. But the tradeoff was to lose all sense of morality. To stop asking questions, to devote yourself unconditionally, to always put Talon before yourself. To be their weapon, to be like Widowmaker or Reaper. There were, of course, many others in higher positions there of their own evil desires, but Olivia had already resigned herself to the fact that she didn’t really have a choice anymore.

She had been alone in this holding cell for hours, maybe a day, maybe longer, given nothing but water and a nutritional pill to keep her alive. Her binds were a thick rope and her chair was metal, and there was nothing in the room for her to hack. Not that she would be able to hack her way out of here anyway. From what she could feel, she’d been stripped from all her gear and left in drab, gray clothing. Her mind was burnt out at this point, too, tired of thinking of escape plans that were bound to fail.

And when the door had opened once more, Olivia realized that her clock had run out.

The lanky silhouette of Dr. Moira O’Deorain sauntered inside, donning an almost comically large pair of medical gloves and wheeling in a gurney. “It’s time, Sombra,” the woman said, her voice carrying no sympathy.

“We don’t have to do this,” Olivia warned, heartbeat accelerating as the doctor drew closer. Her voice was weak, almost too quiet, and she found it even more pathetic than she had thought. “I’ll be good.”

“We’ve given you too many chances to be good." Moira untied her, only to move her to the gurney and retie her there. Olivia didn’t fight it, knowing that it would only spell out worse for her. Without any of her usual equipment, she knew she was no match for the doctor anyway.

“De-mote me, then, I don’t need to be a big player anymore.”

“You and I both know that you’d only cause more trouble for us that way.” And then Moira began to wheel the hacker out of the room, and down a clean, tiled hallway. Nothing about this place was familiar to Olivia, and she had no idea about how she was going to get out of this. “Just stop resisting,” Moira continued, “and we’ll all be much happier.”

“Please, you don’t have to do this,” Olivia tried again.

“I’m afraid I do.”

And as they arrived to a bright white operating room and the doctor began her process, Olivia’s begging continued and continued and continued.

 

 

And then it stopped.

* * *

Chapter 23: 02/??/2078 XX:XX

(notes: reminder that this arc contains themes of brainwashing, torture, and drug use. i dont have a beta reader so comments are much appreciated!)

**(housekeeping note: this is where the plot seriously deviates.)**

Sombra’s eyes flashed open and she sat up with a gasp.

She looked around the room, an operating room to be exact, only to find that she was alone. Her face hurt, whether from struggling with Moira or from something else, Sombra didn’t know. Her spine ached something awful too, but that was typical, especially if Moira had fucked with her tech there in some way.

Her memory of the operation was a blur, but she does remember initially passing out from the pain, not from any kind of anesthetic. How humane of Moira to do her like that.

Carefully, Sombra lifted her hands to see what the changes were. First, she was surprised to see that her skin was still brown, not some eerie blue like Lacroix. She reached around her back to gingerly feel at the mechanics in her spine, but each divot and wire and plate didn’t feel particularly out of the norm, although they felt a little tender. And then she realized that she was completely unrestrained.

Maybe they weren’t done with the operation. Maybe they were on break and hadn’t expected Sombra to wake up. Then why, as she examined herself further, was she feeling just fine? Why would they stop with no work done?

Quietly, Sombra slipped off the operating table to stand, the metal betraying her with a creak. But still, no one came to stop her. There was a mirror embedded in the wall, and Sombra knew enough to know that a viewing room was behind the mirror. Maybe they were watching her and this was all a test. God, she looked awful though. Her drab gray clothes did nothing to flatter her, or hide her bruises and scars. She desperately needed a shower, and the circles under her eyes were darker than ever. Her hair lacked its trademark purple glow, too. The undercut was overgrown, messily spilling over her metal enhancements; the ends were split and now a dull auburn thanks to what appeared to be a malfunction in her cosmetic tech. Sombra grimaced at how the hairdo now clashed with her still bright irises.

When she finally turned away and opened the door out, however, the room behind the one way glass was empty.

Empty wasn’t the right word, because there was something of importance there: a box, tucked away under a desk and labeled “CONTENTS TO BE FILED INTO EVIDENCE”.

The box was cardboard and easy to open, and Sombra chuckled with her snooping. It was her gear. Everything was there, her hacking gloves, machine pistol, and even her pack of spare translocators. Thank god. The only thing she needed now was a better outfit, but. That was fine.

Quickly, she equipped everything she would need to escape this place. She tried to translocate, but immediately got feedback that none of her devices were currently active. With a sigh, Sombra resorted to Plan B, and activated her camouflage before booking it the hell out of the room.

She didn’t know where she was, but as Sombra found and elevator and hacked it, she realized she was at Talon’s base in Venice. She’d been to the base many times, and even this exact elevator; this operating floor was either new or it had escaped her previously. No matter. She knew how to get around and that’s all that mattered.

There were quite a few Talon operatives milling the base, but none seemed to notice as she slipped through their groups and right out the front door.

Thank god she was in Venice. Sombra had a safe house not too far from here, cause like hell was she going to voluntarily keep her shit on Talon’s base. And risk them snooping? No thank you. With a deep breath, she took off down the street.

Racing down alleyways, vaulting over dumpsters, and leaping over chain link fences, Sombra wondered just how long she had been out as the setting sun lit her path. A whole day??? A week? ...Longer? It didn’t really matter, as long as she got out of this damn city.

Eventually the hacker arrived at an old, unassuming storage unit and slipped inside. All of her stuff was here, perfect. Her safe house was still that: safe. It was no Castillo, but the room housed a computer with internet capabilities sitting upon a table, along with a cabinet of various things she might need in an emergency. Tinkering with one of her spare translocators, Sombra grunted in frustration as the device flashed and pulsed slowly. It would need to warm up before she could connect to her disabled ones. She stuck an ethernet cable in it to help speed up the process.

In the meantime, Sombra needed to get back into contact with Satya, if only so that she could apologize for her absence. Sombra flushed and looked down at her outfit, before grabbing the only spare outfit around. It was old; a gray and red version of her purple jacket from back when she worked even closer with Talon. But... it would do. It even matched her shitty state of hairdo.

But when Sombra attempted to call Satya, her mind drew a blank. How could she get in contact with the other woman again?

...Where was Satya?

Sombra furrowed her brow. Her lapse of clarity must be leftovers from whatever Moira did to her, because after a moment of hard thinking, Sombra remembered the apartment in Utopaea.

A phone call to Satya’s place wouldn’t work, though, and Sombra really was pressed for time. The sooner she could get out of the city the better. She typed into her arm and searched through different methods of communication, before finally hacking into the street cam across the street from Satya’s apartment. Having found the right place, Sombra projected herself through the window.

Boxes littered the place, many packed up and taped, and with a stone in her gut Sombra worried that Satya was gone. But luckily, no, the other woman was home. Satya hadn’t noticed her yet though, was too busy cooking, it seemed.

What would she say? Would Satya even want to see her anymore? With Vishkar supposedly out of the way and Satya apparently moving, was there even a place for Sombra in her life?

Satya deserved a goodbye, at the very least.

With a swallow, Sombra stepped closer. “Looks good,” she managed.

Unfortunately, that seemed to startle Satya and she spilled cake batter all over herself. But when Satya turned, the look on her face told Sombra she really had been missed. She gave a nervous grin in return. “Miss me?”

“Olivia.” Satya tried to hug Sombra, and she wanted with all her heart to actually be there.

“I’m sorry, linda, I’m not actually here. Well. There. I can’t say where I am,” Sombra lamented. She couldn’t put Satya in further danger than she already might be. “I don’t have much time, but long story short I’m with Talon, they’ve got their noses all up in my ass and I don’t know when I’m going to be able to come back,” she rushed.

Satya stepped back. “...I see.” The disappointment was clear in her voice and it made Sombra’s heart ache. “Why not just call?”

As Sombra explained herself, she could hear a crash outside of her unit, and knew immediately that she was being looked for. “Shit. Gotta go, don’t wait up for me.” Not waiting for Satya’s goodbye, Sombra ejected herself from the street cam.

And then her door crashed open, too.

It was Widowmaker, her visor activated and trained on Sombra, but surprisingly, Moira was there too, and she was giving Sombra a slow clap. “It’s almost cute how you thought you could get away from us.” The doctor tilted her head and pursed her lips, almost looking upset. “We weren’t even done.”

“What did you do to me?” Sombra asked slowly. Her translocator was almost ready, so she would just need to keep talking. And then move smart, and fast.

Luckily the doctor loved to talk about her sick line of work. “You won’t understand afterwards, so I’ll pity you and give you the basics. You’re a... delicate subject, and we have to approach your promotion different than we did with Amelie here. We could wipe her clean no problem, but you,” Moira smiled, her lips conveying a sickly warmth, “your mind and your skills are far too precious to sacrifice. We simply have to work on rewriting your loyalties. The process is tedious, slow. We’ve been working for so long and yet we’ve hardly begun!” The doctor clasped her hands together. “Oh, it’s a shame you’ve woken up early, though.”

The concept struck a nervous chord in Sombra. She must have been under the knife longer than she originally thought. Luckily, she didn’t have to stew in the thought long. Her translocator beeped and lit up purple from across the room, and with a smirk Sombra gave the doctor a shrug. “How are you gonna keep working on what you can’t catch?” And then she cloaked herself and dashed for her device.

The unfortunate thing about turning against your coworkers is that they already know your tricks. Moira didn’t have sights on Sombra, but Amelie did. Before Sombra’s hand closed around her translocator, the sniper had fired, and a tranquilizer dart had lodged itself into Sombra’s neck.

The last thing Sombra heard before hitting the ground was Moira’s laugh of mocking delight.

* * *

Chapter 24: 02/??/2078 XX:XX

(notes: hi guys im back! dont forget, this chapter deals with brainwashing and drug use.)

Life was a blur for a while.

Well, no, a blur wasn’t the right way to put it. Sometimes, all there was was darkness. A hot, empty darkness. And then sometimes life was red, and everything was hard to focus on. Other times were clear, but simply unbearable, and the darkness was much preferred to the brightness of a medical room and the doctor’s sharp knife.

In the back of her mind, Sombra knew that time was passing. And that, when she wasn’t being experimented and operated on, her body was carrying out orders without her. The concept was too hard to think about, though, and Sombra couldn’t do anything about it anyway, so she found herself giving in to the darkness more often than not.

Today was the first time in a long time that Sombra felt something even close to free will.

Not that she couldn’t go any place or do anything that she wasn’t allowed. Her surroundings were that of a solid, dark room, with humanoid targets lit up blue. With a moment of thought, Sombra realized that this was a test.

Her hands moved faster than her brain did, pulling out her machine pistol and downing the targets. Her movements were unpracticed, though, just a bit inaccurate, and after a few minutes of target practice, a buzzer sounded from the ceiling.

“Sombra, dear, you’re being sloppy,” came the chastising voice of Moira over the intercom. “We can’t reward you with being awake if you’re not going to work well.”

“Give me another chance,” Sombra found herself demanding. “I can do this.”

“Very well.”

The same buzzer sounded again and Sombra pulled in all her concentration to hit the targets harder, faster, better. Her limbs ached and her hair was slicked by sweat by the time all the targets were down, and then more appeared. Although still clearly digital, the targets’ appearances were becoming more and more detailed. Sombra realized they were the likenesses of people she once knew, but that wasn’t a problem for her.

And then one more humanoid target appeared, this one lit up cyan. “Hack her,” instructed Moira, and Sombra obeyed.

The target flashed red with the hack, and, although the details were faint, Sombra recognized that this one was even more familiar.

“Take her down,” was the command.

And Sombra hesitated. Because the woman’s face on the target was one that she couldn’t place, but Sombra felt as though it was important.

Moira spoke a word that Sombra didn’t understand, and then repeated her command.

And Sombra obeyed.

* * *

It was her first time outside since they started the promotion, Sombra was told. She had no idea how long everything had taken for her process to get to this point and she couldn’t be able to find out anyway.

The cold hand of the Widow rested at her back and guided her through alleyways and up the side of a building. It was snowing lightly, and Sombra felt a heat rush to her cheeks in response. It was a foreign feeling, if only because Sombra hadn’t felt anything like it in quite some time. She wondered where exactly she was, but didn’t bother to ask. She knew somehow that she wouldn’t get an answer. From the dim and the dust of the small room they set up in, the hacker figured that it must have been abandoned, and that they were here on business.

Amelie set up her rifle, her Kiss, against the sill of an open window, and guided Sombra to look through its scope.

“Do you have eyes on the target?” she asked.

“Si,” Sombra found herself answering, taking count of the figures walking down the street. Dully, she wondered how she would know which one was her target, but her hands seemed to make the decision and took aim with the rifle.

“Good. Fire,” the sniper ordered.

Without question, Sombra’s finger pulled the trigger.

But she missed.

Even with Widowmaker’s gun, Sombra was not a perfect sniper. She tried to fire again, but the bullet grazed off the surface of a bright shield bubble and then the group had moved into cover.

“Sloppy,” the Widow criticized, disappointment in her voice clear. “Fire again when you see her.”

Something akin to recognition sparked in Sombra when she saw her target again. The woman down on the street was familiar, somehow. So Sombra hesitated. That was the wrong choice. Amelie spoke a word that Sombra couldn’t comprehend, but it made her vision blur for a moment and her fingers pull the trigger once more on their own. Only her hitched breath caused her to miss again.

Sombra’s head hurt at this point, and she tried to place where she knew her target from, but the woman on the street had already ducked back into cover. “Who- who was that?”

Amelie tsked and with a hand at her spine, guided Sombra off the scope without bothering to answer her question. “We were foolish. You’re still not ready. I’ll finish the job for you.”

She didn’t get the chance. Both women watched in horrific awe as an infinite wall of hard light expanded between them and their targets. The sniper cursed as she fired three shots that failed to penetrate the bright shield.

“Get it down, now,” she ordered. That was definitely more Sombra’s expertise, and as she hacked the shield, a drop ship swooped down and their targets were able to escape. Sombra cracked the shield with her hack, making it flash red, but it was too late. The shield shattered, and their targets were gone.

Amelie stood with a clipped sigh, holding her sniper rifle at her hip. In her other hand she held a familiar vial that made Sombra instantly go limp.

“I’ll do better next time,” the hacker pleaded. She didn’t want to go back to the darkness, not now. Not ever again. “Don’t make me go back.”

“It’s not my decision,” Widowmaker replied. She pressed the vial into a tank at Sombra’s back and spoke another command word, and it wasn’t long until the drugs flooded her veins and the world went blurry again.

(end notes: in case it isn’t clear, much of sombra’s brainwashing is done through drugs and fucking with the technology at her back. i’m no scientist. the effects are altered memories, higher obedience to talon, and being controlled by certain codewords.)

* * *

Chapter 25: 03/??/2078 XX:XX

Time passed way too fast sometimes, and other times way too slowly. Or maybe time wasn’t passing at all. None of it was in Sombra’s control.

She had other episodes of consciousness, some longer than others. She remembered desperately washing her hands of blood in a gas station bathroom, and when she looked at her reflection, her usually bright violet eyes were a lifeless burgundy.

She remembered eating elotes with Gabriel in the dark cover of an alleyway. She didn’t know why she was so upset in the moment, but Reyes had brought her the street food as a comfort. Even behind his white mask she could tell he had looked at her with pity.

She remembered attending meetings with the doctor, finally presented like a trophy to the man in charge of Talon. She was a work in progress, as Moira had phrased it, and their boss looked down at her with an approving smile.

She remembered being confused, conflicted, in pain.

She forgot why life had to be this way. Why she was under the knife more often than behind a gun. One day she had asked Moira why life was blurry all the time.

“Your brain is far, far too valuable to tamper with so carelessly,” the doctor had answered, her hand laying affectionately in Sombra’s hair. “The drugs aren’t perfect, but we’ll smooth out those kinks. The most important changes are starting to work as intended and that’s all you need to know.”

Sombra had to disagree but she couldn’t have argued it. Consciousness was precious to her, now.

Today was another conscious day. Sombra was in France, and she only knew that because she had been here many times before. The Chateau made for a peaceful home, and by the warm weather, Sombra could assume that spring had come.

“We should play a game,” Sombra suggested, lounging on a bench while Widowmaker sunbathed beside her.

“Like chess? You would lose,” Amelie said dismissively, eyes masked by large sunglasses as she read from a book.

Sombra turned her gaze skyward. “No, no mind games like that. How about...” She thought for a minute. “Oh! You could tell me a fact about yourself, and in return I could tell you something about me.”

“D’accord.” The sniper pushed up her glasses with a slender manicured finger. “A fact about me? I wish to make it to the next chapter of my book.”

“Oh you’re no fun,” Sombra pouted. “I’d rather just play this game with Sa-“ Her tongue caught in her mouth and her mind drew a blank.

 

What...

 

 

What was she going to say?

“With...?” Amelie raised a brow.

“...Someone. I swear, I was going to say someone.” Sombra furrowed her brow as she tried to remember. Try as she might, though, all she could think of was the color blue before her head began to hurt. “Just. Forget it.”

Amelie looked back down at her book, and if Sombra wasn’t looking then, she would have missed the faint smile on the sniper’s lips. “Alright... if you need entertainment, try my library next time.”

Sombra closed her eyes. She didn’t want to think anymore.

* * *

“What do you mean, they found her?” hissed the voice of Moira, waking Sombra from where she slept in the doctor’s lab.

“The hacker they retrieved mined this image from the helipad.” The reply came from Gabriel. Sombra slowly sat up, not wanting to give away her presence in the dark. The two figures stood in the doorway to the doctor’s temporary lab in the Chateau, Moira standing just inside. She must have just been visited by the Reaper. Sombra didn’t know what they were talking about, but information was always something important to her.

There was a beat of silence and Sombra watched Moira examine the mentioned photo. “...There will be a confrontation here. They think they have the element of surprise,” she concluded.

“Then we’ll ambush them. Teach them that when they think they have the upper hand, they’ll lose a few fingers instead.” Gabriel closed his clawed glove into a fist for emphasis.

Sombra crept just a bit closer out of curiosity, but that was her mistake. Her foot brushed into a stray beaker, making it roll across the floor with a light clink and alerting the other two Talon members to her presence.

“Sombra, dear, did we wake you?” asked Moira, turning to look at the other woman.

Sombra shot up to full height, her face flushing with embarrassment. “I-” She had no other excuse than that she was snooping. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s none of your concern-” began Moira, but Gabriel cut her off.

“It’s Overwatch,” he answered, and Moira gave him a look of annoyance that he dismissed with a wave of his hand. “They’ve expressed interest in… recruiting you to their side.”

Sombra scoffed instinctively. “Those goody two-shoes? What would they have that I want?”

Gabriel seemed to like that answer. “They seem to think you would be better on their side, but we both know that’s horseshit.”

Sombra thought for a moment. Something in her heart told her something about this conversation was wrong, but the feeling was crowded out by the desire to please. “You talked about an ambush,” Sombra replied. “I should be there. Refuse their offer myself.” She put one fist in her other palm to clarify, and felt relief at the fact that it seemed to get the message across.

Moira and Gabe shared a look, the latter nodding to the former. Moira then turned to Sombra. “Very well. We believe you’re ready for more active combat after your latest simulation results. If you’re successful in this mission, I’m willing to give you more freedom.”

Sombra’s heart leapt at the promise. More freedom meant more time awake and more time away from the darkness. All it would take was mowing down a few lousy members of Overwatch.

Sombra grinned.

“I’m ready.”

* * *

**Drafts:**

03/30/2078 04:00  
It was raining. Sombra stood in the library of Guillard, the Reaper at her side, shrouded by the dark of night. Should the group need any backup, Widowmaker and the doctor were watching from the rafters. The patter of rain and gusts of wind made the windows of the library rattle.

A drop ship descended from dark gray clouds, its lights dimmed and engines as silent as could be, and Sombra had to smirk. They thought they could be stealthy, huh? The hacker smirked like a cat lying in wait for its prey, and checked the ammo in her gun. Full. Good. She probably wouldn’t need all of her clip for the job, anyway.

She watched with ease, their various heat signatures bright beacons through the walls. As the Overwatch agents infiltrating the Chateau finally arrived, their welcoming party came in the form of Sombra’s pistol pointing to the first one’s forehead. The other three Overwatch personnel in attendance drew their guns, but Sombra raised her other hand to stop them all. “Let’s all relax, ah? I won’t shoot if you don’t,” she started with a smooth tone. Sure, it was a lie, but she was a good negotiator.

The target front and center raised her hands in surrender. Tracer. “No one’s shooting anybody,” the British woman replied, her voice careful. Wary. As if Sombra were a child on the edge of a major tantrum. “We just came here to talk with you, Sombra.”

“There’s nothing I love more than a good talk,” Sombra replied casually, though she didn’t let her aim stray. She tilted her head back towards Reaper, who remained motionless. “They wanna talk, doesn’t that sound fun?”

Reaper crossed his arms and gave a noncommittal grunt.

Sombra turned back to lock eyes with Tracer. “He’s just shy,” she said with a little grin, fingers flexing around the handle of her gun. “So what is it you want with me?”

One of the agents behind Tracer pushed her out of the way. Sombra didn’t shoot, just trained her gun on the new offender. “Enough games. We’re here to /save you,/ Sombra,” the agent said. There was a trace of sadness and desperation in her voice.

Sombra scoffed. “Save me? What a load of-” And then she looked at her new target.

The woman Sombra was now aiming for was... actually. She was indescribable. Not in a beautiful kind of way, but... Sombra literally could not look at this woman without getting a headache. Tracer, and behind her, Brigitte and Genji, were all agents Sombra knew of and were able to recognize, but. This woman. This woman was something incomprehensible.

Sombra cringed, her temples burning, and her fingers began to shake. The dark room suddenly burned far too bright behind her eyes, and the sound of the rain outside rattled through her skull like bullets.

From behind her Sombra could hear Reaper call Moira, but that was far from her concern. The doctor’s hands closed around her shoulders out of nowhere, and Moira then spoke a command word. Sombra’s vision clouded, and her consciousness struggled not to blur as she had to ask the Overwatch agent:

“Who are you?”

* * *

It was raining. And Satya Vaswani now understood what heartbreak felt like.

She was tired. She was lonely. She was at her wits’ end searching for the woman standing in front of her now. And now that they had finally reunited, Olivia had said three words that sent everything over the edge.

Her world seemed to come to a halt, blood rushing in her ears as she locked eyes with the Sombra collective. Lightning flashed, brightening the room for just a moment. “...You’re kidding, right?” Satya asked with a stuttering chuckle, but it was too late.

The figure aiming the pistol at Satya was completely different from the woman she was talking to not even a minute ago. Her stance was still now, her voice quiet and expression neutral, but it was her eyes that had changed the most. Her eyes held no mirth, no emotion, no spark. No life. Not after whatever codeword the other Talon agent had had given. It was in Gaelic, Satya could recognize, but she didn’t know the language itself to know the translation.

“You’ll have to forgive her,” spoke the mentioned person from behind Sombra, and guided the now passive hacker out of the way with gloved fingers still on her shoulders. The figure had appeared from nowhere in a burst of smoke. It would have almost been comical, if not for the fact that the woman was entirely responsible for the eerie state Sombra was in now. “She’s still in the works.”

Satya’s brow furrowed at the new figure, but Tracer gasped from behind her. “Doctor… O’Deorain? You’re helping them?”

The mentioned doctor laughed. “Oh, you poor young thing. You don’t even know how much /help/ I’ve done here.” She waved with a sickly smile to Genji, who scoffed, and then her gaze trained on Satya. “You can call me Moira. I’m the one who’s helping our dear Sombra move on from you.”

Satya looked back at the still form of Sombra and realized the implication of that, and she saw red. She lunged, arm forming her gun of hard light again.

“What did you /do/?” she demanded, voice hoarse from her own words.

“What did /you/ do?” asked Moira in return, simply smiling back down at the architect. “We’re doing what’s necessary to reaffirm her /loyalty/ to us. Do you even know what you’ve done to her? I’ve been doing a lot of work to take care of Sombra, and And now, we’ll take care of you.” She lifted her hand, spindly fingers gathering a menacing purple energy in her palm. It made Satya weak just looking at it and she cringed away. The doctor used the opportunity to disappear in a flash of smoke, and reappeared next to the Reaper. “Get them.”

Genji was the one to react from behind Satya, flashing ahead to grapple with Moira. “Get Sombra out of here,” he commanded, his visor flashing bright green.

Brigitte helped Satya to her feet as Tracer blinked twice, circling Reaper to distract him. “Come on now, we need you.”

Satya wheezed and nodded, her lungs clearing with Brigitte’s heals. “Help Lena,” she managed, her fingers working to form hard light. “I have Sombra.”

Brigitte nodded, frisbeeing an armor pack onto Genji and rushing to Tracer’s aide. Satya looked to Sombra again, standing vacant in the middle of it all.

“Olivia, it’s me,” she tried now, stepping close, her voice quiet. “You trust me, don’t you?”

That was the wrong thing to do. Sombra reacted automatically at the proximity, butting her gun against Satya’s forehead and cracking her protective hard light visor in one hit.

All right. No more nice play. Satya huffed, her fingers forming hard light handcuffs as she circled Sombra. They danced a dance of death, Sombra aiming short bursts of pistol fire and melee blows, and Satya narrowly dodging out of the way and trying to get behind her. Sombra was smart, but in the moment her subconscious state left her at a disadvantage. By the time Satya was able to trap Sombra in the cuffs, she was sweating and tired from the fight.

Sombra’s head turned rapidly, her dulled eyes finally locking on the hard light around her wrists. She tried to pull herself free but had no success.

With Sombra trapped, Satya moved to subdue her, but was interrupted by a new figure dropping from the ceiling. As she rose to full height, Satya recognized the form of the Widowmaker. “You’re not getting away again,” Widow told her, sauntering close with her sniper rifle in her arms.

“/You’re/ not taking her away from me again,” Satya replied, her throat tight as she wove hard light with her fingers. She had been ready for this one. Far larger and more complex than the cuffs she put Sombra in, the architect constructed a web around Widowmaker, and with a tense movement, brought the web into reality and constricted the sniper with it, pinning her arms to her sides and suspending her from the ceiling. There could be no finer irony.

Widowmaker spat a curse in French at Satya, infuriated by her bonds and unable to utilize her gun from the trap. Satya simply waved from down below.

With that done, Satya sent two turrets to opposite walls of the library, their beams instantly locking on the other two Talon agents and slowing them significantly. “Brigitte!”

The armored woman nodded, taking Sombra into her arms and easily carrying the hacker like a sack of potatoes over her shoulder. Tracer and Genji reacted too, retreating from their foes. With a wave of her fingers, Satya built a teleporter directly from the Chateau’s stairs to where their drop ship lie in wait, and with all of them aboard, Lena easily buckled herself in and pulled off into the sky.

All Satya could hear as they departed was the curses of the Widow, and she finally let herself cry.

* * *

04/01/2078 21:15

“Aren’t you angry?”

“She was my experiment. A precious flower that failed to bloom.” Moira O’Deorain leaned back in a chair just barely too small for her lanky body, writing down onto paper notes too complex for the untrained eye to understand. “My goal is advancing science, after all, and she was holding me back. The best path is to cut our losses and try again.”

“What are you saying?”

“I need a new subject. One that won’t resist so much, a more... docile contender. Any civilian will do.”

Widowmaker gazed down at the doctor, and gave a short nod. “I understand. I will try to find someone who will not be missed this time.”

Moira snorted, a gloved hand curling under her chin at the comment. “That’s probably a good idea. I aim to keep the next one.”

The widow made no further comment, just simply nodded again on her way out of the room.

* * *

04/02/2078 15:30

Angela Ziegler was a medical professional, yes, a humanitarian savior, indeed, and some would even say a miracle worker due to her pioneering the world of nanotechnology. She’d seen cases all over the world and been able to soothe many, if not most, of them.

Whatever the /fuck/ Moira O’Deorain has done to this poor woman is frankly a new tier of /horrible/ for Angela. In her opinion, death may have been a better fate.

But here they were. So it was time to get to the bottom of this. Angela cracked her knuckles, gazing down at the unconscious body of the Sombra collective lain on her medical table.

A blood test revealed a heavy concentration of psychedelics, and upon further observation, nanites more advanced than Angela’s own development. Testing the nanites against her own stored in the Caduceus was an immediate negative: the sample reacted violently and the nanites turned against each other. Angela swore. Of course the Irish bitch would think of a way to prevent an easy way out of her work.

Theoretically, the drugs could be flushed out over time. The withdrawl would also be dangerous, both to Sombra and those around her, but Angela concluded that it would be the safest way to clear Sombra’s system.

Now... to break the other news.

Angela slipped out of her office, to where a weary Satya Vaswani waited for any kind of news.

“How is she?” Satya asked, standing straight up upon seeing Angela.

“Moira was right when she said Sombra was a ‘work in progress.’” She brought up information from the Guillard debrief on her tablet. “Her bloodstream is teeming with toxins. I have yet to cleanse her body of it, as part of the solution contains nanotechnology engineered to counter my Caduceus,” Angela explained. “The effects of the toxin are memory alteration and behavioral reconfiguration, much like what you encountered in your confrontation. And, ah, you might want to sit down for this one.” Angela took a slow breath. “One of the most significant changes to her memory is that you seem to have been censored completely from her mind.”

The look on Satya’s face said it all. She was quiet for a moment, her gaze trained on the tile floor of the hallway. “...What do we do?”

“I plan on placing her in a quarantine to flush out her body. Think of it as a... system reboot, of sorts.” The doctor gave Satya an unsure look. “Right now, I... I don’t know how she’s going to react to you when the dust is settled. I still need to take an MRI to diagnose any damages to her nervous system, so I can’t be sure of how things will work out.”

Satya nodded quietly, her thumb pressing sharp into the palm of her prosthetic arm.

Angela chose not to comment on that. “How... do you feel? How are you?”

“I just.... I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Satya admitted, her voice breaking on the last word. She folded over herself, her head heavy in her hands.

“Oh, Satya. The best thing for /you/ to do is wait,” Angela said softly, moving to place a hand on Satya’s back. “I know you feel powerless, but Sombra’s recovery is out of your control. I promise you, she’s in good hands. I’m doing everything I can to make her better.”

Satya sat up, nodding and wiping her eyes. “Yes, I- I understand that. Thank you, again, doctor.”

“It’s my duty,” Angela replied with a comforting smile. “Now, the best thing you can do right now is get some rest. I will give you an update as soon as there is one.”

Satya stood, and she looked as though she had a million other questions. But after a moment she just gave another nod. “I will go.... do that. Please take care of her.”

“I will,” the doctor reassured, and watched the other woman retreat down the hall. Once she was alone, Angela let out a long sigh and ran her hands down her face.

It was going to be a long week.

* * *

Satya couldn’t just rest. Resting was admitting that there truly wasn’t anything she could do and that didn’t sit right with her. She had to do something.

And so she sat, hunched over Lynx’s old station and scrolling through Overwatch’s medical databases. The omnic hacker was nowhere to be found, their own job in finding Sombra complete. They must be having a hell of a snooze. But the more and more she read into nanotechnology, the more she was overwhelmed. Satya was looking at decades of comprehensive information, and she had to resign herself to the fact that Mercy was truly an expert of her craft.

And so she turned to her next source of comfort: building. Satya felt her heart lift from the pit it’d been residing in; if anything, she could bury herself in the distraction she knew best.

Running into Torbjorn Lindholm in the workshop soured her mood immediately.

The man was clearly in the thick of it; he was dusted in a thin layer of soot, and his working gloves seemed to be smoking with a recently put out fire. But upon noticing Satya, he dusted his gloves and cleared his throat. “Vish- Vaswani. I, ah. My daughter gave me the run down of what happened. ...I’m sorry.”

That stopped Satya right in her tracks. “What?”

Torbjorn seemed reluctant to admit his apology. “Listen. Overwatch here? They’re my family. I’ve been protectin’ them as long as I can remember, it seems.” He shrugged, running sooted fingers through his beard. “New members... aren’t my cup’a tea. But I know what it’s like to give everything for family. I see that in you.” The man let out a long sigh. “If I lost my wife.... lost any of my kids? I don’t even want to think about it. So... ‘m sorry. You must be going through a lot.”

Satya nodded slowly. “I haven’t known family in a long time,” she confessed. “I’m hoping I can find it here. For me and her. But right now... I’m so tired. I just want to forget for a moment.”

The engineer rocked on his heels for a moment. “Do ya... want to watch me work, for a while? I’ve been working on some schematics for an improved turret and could use a second opinion.”

A smile crept its way onto Satya’s lips and she let it bloom on her face. “I’d like that.”

* * *

Satya learned that Torbjorn was quite the talker when you let him. He treated his turrets like his own children, talking to them with adoration when they worked and frustration when they didn’t. But he also talked to fill the silence, and turned to telling Satya stories.

The man ended up talking all throughout their time together, and Satya enjoyed the stories. Stories of old Overwatch, things she knew and many more that she didn’t. Of retired members, and of... /retired/ members. Torbjorn spoke of some fondly, and others hardly other than a mention of their name, as if the wounds were still raw. Satya didn’t blame him.

He talked of those he would hope respond to the Recall, too. His stubborn confidence in the fact that they weren’t dead, just hadn’t had the chance to come around yet. And his admittance that... recruits like Satya and Lynx were also valuable and needed additions to the team.

When the engineer discovered that she hadn’t slept, he ushered Satya out of the workshop and told her not to come back until she’s had her eight hours.

* * *

“Do you know who I am, Sombra?”

The reply was mocking, teasing. “You’re the Queen of England. Of course I know who you are. Do /you/ have any more stupid questions, /Mercy/?”

Angela Ziegler wrote notes into a holographic clipboard before tucking her tablet pen behind her ear and giving Sombra a piece of paper. It was an Overwatch Agent profile with a photo attached. “Do you know who this is?”

“...No. Some other Overwatch agent? Their name’s blacked out.”

Sombra handed the piece of paper back to Angela. The profile was in plain English, with nothing censored on the paper. Angela took another note down. “A brainwashed one,” she commented, the thin patience clear in her voice.

“Still think you’re bullshitting me.” Sombra moved to sit criss cross atop the medical table she sat on, one finger curling in a lock of her hair.

“I showed you the charts and your blood test results, it’s your choice whether or not you believe me.” Angela stood from her chair to full height with a sigh and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “As my patient, I am putting you in a brief quarantine to flush the drugs out of your system. As our guest, you should be made aware that after the quarantine, you are free to use our facilities so long as you do not leave without permission.”

Sombra huffed, her eyes scanning the clean tiles of the ceiling. She knew Athena was watching them. Smart. “If I run, you’ll just kidnap me again. I’ll chill here.”

The doctor bowed her head as she headed out of the room. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

“And bring me a magazine or something, yeah?”

* * *

and, yeah, the drafts end here! after a painful recovery, sombra and satya slowly get to know each other again, and eventually something in sombra triggers her memories and they kiss or something. again, my inspiration for where this story was going kind of trickled out, but don’t be surprised if you see some scenes recycled in the new plot! thank you all for your patience.

 


End file.
